


The Exam

by mrsmischief



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-12 23:01:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsmischief/pseuds/mrsmischief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your last exam of the academic year. You're incredibly nervous, but at least your Professor Hiddleston is there to comfort you. <br/>Sequel to 'The Lift'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Exam

Once, there was a time when the timetable of 7 was the hardest thing you knew. Then, your first long essay. Later, final exams at school. Now, it was rather different. Back then, you hadn't yet heard of the literature exams at uni. Oh no,  _they_  were the actual  _worst_. Such a pain in your by-the-way-rather-fine backside. Who the hell could learn - and remember! - everything about all the books you had studied during the academic year? It just wasn't humanly possible... Especially if you had a life outside your studies, too.

Or was it really  _outside_  your studies, if that "life" mostly consisted of fucking your professor wherever and whenever you could? Guess that could count as learning, too... At least you had learned how to give him the most pleasure, and it was  _such a shame_  they didn't give you any credit for that. It would have looked very fine on your CV, too:

**September 2010 - April 2011**   cashier at Tesco  
 **June 2011 - January 2012** shop assistant at Primark  
 **March 2012 -**   **now**  lover, girlfriend and sole pleasure-bringer of Professor Hiddleston

Yeah, maybe not... Still, a shame.

However, now you weren't too worried about his pleasure, or your own, either. You were on the edge of a panic that could potentially lead into your sudden death as a result of quickened heart rate and bursting brain. You were sitting in the exam hall, cranky, nervous and nauseous. And knowing Tom, _your_  Tom was there didn't exactly help.

You couldn't see him, but you could feel his gaze on you every now and then. He was at the back of the room, and at the front, staring right at you at this very moment, was good old Mrs Todd. You didn't know anyone who liked her, and it would have surprised you even more to find out she liked anyone at all. She was a proper real-life Dolores Umbridge, complete with the frog-like appearance and the sweetest fake smile ever. She stared at you with her pale amphibian eyes, as if she could somehow hear your thoughts that were  _not proper in an exam situation, Miss, not at all_ , and there was nothing you wished for more than that Tom would swap places with her. At least his eyes were nice to look at.

You cast your eyes down back to the exam paper after glancing at the clock on the wall at the front. 56 minutes left. You had been sitting there, writing and wanting to cry, and you had managed to answer the first question. But the second one. You felt like you couldn't remember any of the theories, any of the books,  _anything_. You stared at the question paper, hoping the right words would jump out and dance into the right order on your answer papers if you just wished hard enough.

52 minutes. A slow, painful death.  
47 minutes. Didn't that hand on that clock move at all?  
42 minutes. A near panic attack.   
38 minutes. Everything you had written was the worst shit ever, but at this point you didn't care anymore.  
35 minutes. You just had to get out, get away from the situation, the paper, the questions. You raised your hand.

You thought Todd the Toad would accompany you, but looked up from your text (you were still writing with your other hand) when, to your surprise, Tom was there instead.   
"Yes?" he whispered.   
"I need the toilet," you said, trying to keep your voice level and seem alright to him. He looked down at you for a moment, eyes searching for something. Perhaps he was wondering why you couldn't wait for only half an hour. But you knew that if you stayed in the exam hall even a minute longer, you'd be very likely to die in your panic. You had to get out.

Finally, he nodded.   
"Ok," he simply said, gesturing you to stand up. You did, and he quietly followed you out of the room.   
As soon as you were outside, you sped up your steps, half-running towards the toilets at the end of the corridor.   
"Darling? Are you alright?" You could hear his voice behind you as he tried to catch up with you, but you took the last few steps and opened the door, entering the ladies' room and locking the door to your cubicle behind you. You heard him open the door, but didn't care as you sank down on the floor, on your knees, taking deep breaths.  _Sweet oxygen._

After a moment, he repeated the question, and you could hear the worry in his voice.   
"Yeah, I'm ok," you reassured him, "just needed to get out of the room for a bit..."  
You could hear him shuffle on his feet, clearly waiting anxiously. Sighing, you got up after a while, opening the door and facing him.   
"I'll fail," you stated with a level voice.   
"No."  
"Yes."  
"Why?"  
"I can't answer the questions. I don't know the terms or the texts well enough. It's _hard_."  
"I know you can do it."  
"What makes you think so?"  
"I just know."

He leaned down, sliding his fingers on your cheek and down under your chin, lifting it up so your eyes would meet his gentle but stern gaze.  
"I know you can do it. You've revised so much, I know you have. Hell, I've even helped you with it! You're the top of the group, one of the best, don't let your insecurity get the best of you."  
"But..." you protested feebly.   
"Shh," he leaned his head closer to yours, his lips finding yours, enclosing in a lingering, comforting kiss.  
"Don't doubt yourself," he whispered, "you'll do just great." With that, he pulled back, smiling at you, his eyes telling you you wouldn't be going anywhere before you obeyed him and got yourself together.   
"Ok," you muttered, going to wash your hands out of habit, even though you hadn't even used the loo. He walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your cheek as you watched in the mirror. He kissed a trail down to your neck, smiling mischievously as his lips got to where shoulder meets neck.   
"I'll reward you later," he murmured against your skin.   
"Now get back there, and make me proud."  
You nodded, watching you two in the mirror before sighing and walking back to the exam hall, Tom following right behind you.

As you sat down on your seat again you felt a bit better. Not much, but anything was an improvement. You could feel Tom's eyes on you, and picked up the pen to begin writing again. You followed your plan with the second question, writing everything you could remember about the topic (not very much), and even though it still felt like shit perhaps it was ok. Hopefully... You had forgotten your dreams about a first long ago anyway, and just didn't really care anymore. As long as it was done, right?

Finally, it was 4 o'clock. You had placed your pen down on the table a couple of minutes before, and just sat there, waiting. You stared at the back of the girl in front of you, watching her long ponytail sway from side to side as she still wrote on until Mrs Todd said the time was up. You could hear the collective sigh of all the students in the hall. Whether it was relief or despair, you didn't know. Maybe both?

You waited patiently in your seat until the papers had been collected. Mrs Todd was the one to get yours, but you wanted to have a word with Tom, so you took your time collecting your things, packing your three pens into your pencil case at least ten times. At last, when the room was almost empty, you approached him, smiling slightly.   
"Well?" he asked.   
"At least it's done," you sighed. "Shitty, but done."  
"Oh come on, darling, you should be happy now! Your last exam, over! You're free!" he said, glancing around to see if anyone was watching, then giving you a brief but warm hug.   
"Thank you," you whispered, feeling your heart swell with love. He was so sweet, so kind, so  _good_  to you.   
"You're welcome. Now, what are your plans for tonight?" he asked you.   
"Nothing much, I'll just take all these books back to the library and probably head home," you said, gesturing at your bag, clearly filled with heavy books for your revision. Tom nodded, and you could almost see his brain working as he pondered where you could have your next stolen moment of pleasure, or if you could at all. Your flatmate still didn't know  about you, and you had said you'd be home tonight, so going to his place was out of question. Then, his lips curled into a smirk that made you both nervous and incredibly turned on.   
"What..?" you asked him, frowning slightly and wondering if you even  _wanted_  to know what he was planning. He shrugged, pretending to be casual about it, but you could see the plan forming in his head, even before he spoke.   
"Oh, nothing, nothing at all. Go on, return your books," he said, his hand gently put sternly pushing you towards the door.   
 _"I'll meet you in the library."_

 


End file.
